May you grow up to be righteous, May you grow up to be true
by Vanille Strawberry
Summary: The Doctor rubs his nose, contemplating. He raises the egg up to the light, turning it, as though examining the shell for imperfections. "This Miss Flint, is a one-of-a-kind and found in a mine Silurian egg."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who**

A/N: I had a thought so I made a thing.

* * *

-May you grow up to be righteous  
May you grow up to be true-

The London streets are blurred and smeared with dirt, sewage and the sweat of unhappy merchants and factory workers hauling crates upon their backs. Urchins offer their caps for loose change and nick the bruised produce from rickety stalls while a police officer trudges dejectedly along, mind on other matters. The sun does not shine on these grim faces, lost behind the clouds of factory smoke and the cold red bricked rows of houses.

Jenny Flint was born on this street some twenty three years ago. Her eyes roam and analyze, notice the sludge on her father's doorstep. The door is open to air out the smell of poverty and defecation inside the little house shared by two families. She can see children in the hallway playing clapping games. Long lost brothers and sisters perhaps.

Someone inside notices Jenny staring blankly into the house on the other side of the street. A shawled woman looks at her briefly before seizing the children and pulling them further inside, out of sight. Her father is called and he comes barrelling out, hoisting his pants which are too loose.

"What's a' meanin' 'a this then?" he barks, causing the neighbours and passers to whisper and turn in their direction. "Come 'ta see us workin' folk? Have a good 'ole laugh, huh? You rich bleedin' bitch!"

The stench is almost unbearable. A hot flash of pity and sadness strike Jenny's heart as she looks upon her maker. His eyes are glassy and his nose is red raw; some of his teeth are missing and his clothes are ill-fitting and probably infested.

She remains mute, watching the shadows of her father's face light in recognition. His glassy eyes widen and his mouth opens to speak before closing in absolute shock.

"What?" he whispers. Jenny glances over his shoulder and sees her mother and older brother standing at the step with three new little ones. The neighbours are pressing close now and her father turns and notices. His face hardens.

"You better come in," he growls.

"No thank you," she responds levelly. "I'm quite comfortable 'ere."

The refusal makes him livid. How dare she question him? What will the neighbours say when she leaves and suddenly his ability to keep order in his own household is questioned? He knows they know that this young woman with the expensive gown is the young daughter who went missing at sixteen.

He makes to seize her forearm and drag her inside, beat her perhaps for good measure. However, before he's able to fully complete the motion, he finds his hand pinned back at an unnatural angle and his Jenny's face so much closer to his, her expression unrecognizable.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you," she says coolly, a little snicker in her tone that frightens him more than anything else. "You see, I picked up a few things since we last talked." She pins his arm back at a destabilizing angle and he cries out, reaching with his other arm to bat her off. She catches the flailing motion and bends this one back with a sneer.

"Ge'roff! Ge'roff!" he wails. "Bleedin' bitch!"

"Not much of a man," she mocks, "When your strength is used against you." Then she hears, rather than sees, her brother's thunderous approach and dodges the punch aimed for her head, dropping her father's arms.

"Tired o' yer little maids. Fuckin' 'em not enough 'ta keep ya is it?" John calls out to a flurry of scandalized murmurings, even though she notices the way he looks at her attire and hesitates in the deliverance of the insult.

She takes a deep breath and points at her father prone on the ground, looking up at her as though God had personally condemned his soul to an eternity in purgatory.

"Ye would fuckin' know," she bites back. "According to ye I was a sinner, an _abomination. _Tried to sell me to a brothel! Best customer's they ever 'ad, they said." She looks at her mother, notes the tears in her eyes and the grip on the children who look terrified and curious all in one with a morbid sense of satisfaction. "Guess you know now where the rent money used 'ta go, Ma!" she calls out to her.

She turns back to her brother and spits in her father's face with little decorum.

"Go 'ta hell."

And then her brother lunges at her. She makes short work of him and does not stay long enough to see him struggle to his feet, cursing and spitting blood in the dirt. She turns on her heels and walks away from the stench and sight of East London, bound for home.

The walk to Paternoster Row is lengthy but it gives Jenny time to mull over the incident that has just transpired. She'd come by the house purely in the name of curiosity (only she knows that's not true), wondering what had become of the Flint's during her absence. Not much of anything apparently. Just years upon years of poverty, ale and prostitutes. The norm, she thinks icily.

She reaches home not some two hours later, weary and hungry. Strax opens the door upon her arrival and his little beady eyes are hard and calculating as he takes in her disheveled appearance.

"You should bathe, Boy," he grumbles. "I've just aired all the rooms."

"Has Madame returned?" she says, pushing passed him and hanging her hat and shawl on the coat rack.

"No, out on errands. I presume this is a front for a reconnaissance mission."

Jenny does no answer as she walks into the kitchen. Instead she decides to busy herself with dinner preparations, hacking at some left-over murderer hanging in the cellar. It's strangely therapeutic. She can imagine she's hacking at her father's limbs and piercing her older brother's organs. She's so consumed in her fantasies of mutilating her family members that she fails to notice the sound of the brass knocker against their front door.

"Boy!"

"No, no, no, Staxy it's quite alright. I'll introduce myself- MISS FLINT! IT'S THE DOCTOR! YOOHOO, ARE YOU HOME?"

Jenny stops mid lash and puts her sword down, heaving out the last of her anger. She catches a dishcloth hanging from a nail against the wall and wipes the blade down, taking the steps back to the living quarters two at a time in her eagerness to meet with the Doctor. They haven't heard word from him since Trenzalore and Madame had been so sure that he wouldn't grace their doorstep again, in his fear that he had caused them too much pain.

Strax and an older gentleman, whom can only be the Doctor, stand chatting as amiably as Strax is capable of, turning their gazes on Jenny when she makes an appearance in the foyer to greet them. The Doctor looks different. He sports a new face - older and a little grave. The shadows on his new countenance speak of a knowledge he wishes her had never learned but they lighten, just a little for Jenny, showing a flicker of the old Doctor.

"Doctor," Jenny breathes. "Your-"

"Face? Yes, happens now and then. It's taking a bit of getting used to. And my goodness would you look at these _wrinkles_!" He seizes hold of Jenny's sword and admires his reflection in the blade with a grimace. "How ghastly. Now-" he opens the lapels of his giant coat and, with a flourish reminiscent of a magician about to perform a fantastical trick, reveals a large cream egg at least the size of Stax's head.

"Doctor ..." Jenny's voice is almost a warning. She takes a step back when the Doctor edges the egg closer. "What is that?"

The Doctor rubs his nose, contemplating. He raises the egg up to the light, turning it, as though examining the shell for imperfections. "This Miss Flint, is a one-of-a-kind and found in a mine Silurian egg."

"A what?!" She gasps.

"Silurian egg, Miss Flint. Keep up! Anyway, curious things Silurian eggs. When the little buggers hatch they sort of go on a rampage for food. Not as cutesy as one might think. If fact they can be downright dangerous. And I couldn't in good conscience leave this little creature in the 21st century to cause havoc! Imagine the explosions. The panic!"

Jenny stares at the egg with concealed wonder.

The Doctor smiles ecstatically at her. "Oh goody! I smell mothering instincts kicking in."

This snaps Jenny out of her stupor rather brusquely. "Oh no no no," she stutters, glancing at Strax who is staring at the egg with contempt.

"Shall I destroy it?" he asks. To whom he is asking neither the Doctor nor Jenny know.

"No, Strax!" They both bark and the alien visibly deflates and trudges out of the foyer and up to his room.

"Look, I can see our-" he nods at the egg- "unannounced arrival has inconvenienced you. We'll just be on our way back to the Dawn of Time, sort of, to find it some parents and -"

"Jenny?"

"Vastra!" Jenny exclaims, hurrying around the Doctor to her wife.

"My dear, what has you so flustered? And who is this gentleman?" Vastra glares at the intruder and curls a protective arm around her wife.

"It's the Doctor! He's come with an-"

"Egg! Vastra my lovely green crime-fighting lesbian superhero, how are you?"

Vastra's eyes widen in surprise and she untangles herself from Jenny, touching the offered egg with shaking fingers. "Is this ... ?"

"Quite." The Doctor nods. "I was hoping you two could give it a nice home, a lovely set of parents, and a darling potato nurse."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who**

A/N: I had a thought so I made a thing. Part 2.

* * *

-Chapter 2-

Jenny serves the tea in the kitchen as Vastra and the Doctor hunch over the table with their gadgets and gizmos, scanning and prodding the egg with all the viciousness of two scientists out for discovery. It seems silly that Jenny would want to wrench it out of the two's grasp - hold it close in her arms out of danger. She shakes her head to rid herself of the notion and sits at her own chair, sipping at her teacup.

"The incubation period is about twenty eight days, give or take." Vastra has a monocle over one eye and she lowers it in contemplation, staring at the green shell.

"Fascinating," The Doctor mutters, reclining back in his seat and tucking his strange little glowing wand back in his pocket. "Anyway, the little rascal seems to be maturing delightfully well. Just needs to be kept warm now, out of the potato's way and etc etc."

Vastra turns to regard her wife with a mystifying look. "I'm not sure we're up for the task, Doctor." Jenny can't help but agree with a timid little nod.

"Of course you are!" he raises his hands above his head in a gesture befitting a monkey. "You're Jenny and Vastra! You strike fear in every thief's heart! You've fought aliens in _SPACE_! Surely you can take care of one little itty bitty baby? You've been married what ... four years?"

"Five," Jenny corrects automatically.

"About time you had the _talk_ I'd say."

Vastra seizes her wife's hand and Jenny knows what she will say before she does. "My love ... have you ever thought of children?"

"Not for a long while," Jenny murmurs back. She glances at the egg. "But we can't leave it on it's own, can we?"

Vastra smiles, pretty and full, and presses a gentle kiss on her wife's lips as the Doctor cheers uproariously.

"Fan-TASTIC! I'll leave the new parents to it then. Got to dash- there's a packet of Jammy Dodgers in the 21st century with my name on it."

"I'll show you out," Vastra says rising from her chair. She's still connected to Jenny and presses a kiss to her wife's hand before they break apart. "Sweetheart, you best bring our new addition up to our room."

"Yes, dear."

* * *

The new addition is wrapped up snug in a thick woolen blanket and cradled in Jenny's warm arms in bed when Vastra enters their bedroom some moments later. Strax has taken leave to Glasgow for some days at his Madame's insistence while she and Jenny acquaint themselves with the child. The sight of Jenny with her chin resting gently on the tip of the shell as she watches the flickering flames in the fireplace makes something warm and curling flourish inside Vastra's chest.

"Jenny."

Jenny does not turn at her name. She merely holds the egg more closely. "I went to see my parents today."

"Oh?" Vastra shuffles out of her dress and gently slips beneath the covers and behind Jenny's little body. Scales on skin make Jenny hum pleasantly and burrow back against her wife as Vastra's arms come around her abdomen.

"They're still alive anway," she says. "Got into a bit of a scuffle with my da."

"Oh I do so hope you gave him a bloody nose," Vastra huffs against her ear. Jenny smiles against the smooth texture of the egg and shivers pleasantly at Vastra's threatening tone.

"Maybe more than a bloody nose. It's just ... I've been 'aving these thoughts ..."

"Thoughts?" Vastra murmurs absentmindedly as she trails cool kisses across Jenny's jaw.

Jenny angles her head so that Vastra can reach more of her skin and hums in affirmation. "Thoughts. Just ... thoughts." There are no tears in Jenny's eyes or throat but Vastra stops her kissing all the same to embrace her wife more securely.

She understands the girl, perhaps more than Jenny understands herself. "You will be a wonderful mother. Of that I have no doubt."

The silence that ensues is gentle and warm. Jenny turns to smile softly into her love's neck and says nothing at all.

* * *

The egg lays in a cot by the fire encased in blankets, scarves and woolen hats. Vastra and Jenny take turns checking up on it and making sure Strax does not wander into their room with plans of blowing up their soon-to-be hatchling. Twenty days have passed, it would be a shame if their new ambitions of parenthood were dashed so close to the end. In this time, Vastra has solved three cases and Jenny has knit fourteen infant sized jumpsuits to ward off the cold London winter. They are becoming rather domesticated.

However, Jenny stills has that hard pebble in her heart, given to her by a family in East London. It's hard to reconcile that past with this oncoming future. She'd find herself cooing an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her to ease the long nights before catching herself - choking on the words. Unable to finish.

Vastra has no such trouble.

_"Eldhrimmer O Loivissa nuanen, dautr abr deloi. Eldhrimmer nen ono weohnataí medh solus un thringa. Eldhrimmer un fortha onr fëon var. Wiol allr sjon."_

_"_I hope you're not teaching him any nasty Silurian words, dear," Jenny says with an impish grin, taking in the sight of her wife rocking an egg wearing a winter hat whilst _singing_.

"Of course not, my love. Just some reptilian bonding."

"Well put him to bed. It's time for your tea."

"Already?" Vastra whines. "But Jenn-"

"No buts, Vastra. It's tea time. And are you ... are you _pouting_?"

Jenny has to hold back a giggle as her wife turns a darker shade of green. Her pout becomes more pronounced as she tucks their egg back in his cot and shuffles out of the room in a huff. She thinks she hears "I do not pout!" before Vastra has disappeared downstairs to the dining room.

Tea is pleasant. Strax declares war on the forks and knives only once and Vastra regales them with tales from centuries ago, an age that Jenny's civilisation has outgrown and forgotten. When the plates have been washed and Strax has clomped happily back up to his room to play with his grenades and adjust the settings on his gun, Vastra can be found happily reclining in her favourite chair.

Jenny sits on the armchair opposite her love's with her wool and needles to finish off a pair of yellow booties. So engrossed in her task is she that Jenny fails to notice the unwavering gaze Vastra has settled upon her. It is only when she drops a stitch and glances upwards to see if her wife has heard her sigh of frustration that she notices. Vastra is smiling adoringly at her and Jenny's answering grin is equally as tender.

"Yes?" Jenny teases, "Can I help you,_ Ma'am?_"

Vastra laughs a little and shakes her head, seizing this morning's paper and shaking it out before she begins to read. "You've done quite enough, Miss Flint."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own fuck all. Pardon my french.**

A/N: I was accepted into my dream university today. Everyday I'm midwifin'.

* * *

-Chapter 3-

Day twenty four sees the first blemish settle in the usually un-flawed exterior of the egg. Jenny stumbles out of bed at the sound of cracking- _like bricks smashing through bone_ - and stumbles her way to the cot in her floral nightgown. She pushes the blankets back and calls out to a groggy and disoriented Vastra with a panicked hiss.

A magnificent scarring crack suddenly appears in the centre of the egg. Jenny lets out a little gasp and clings to her wife who smiles into the human's unkempt hair.

"It's quite alright, dear. Our little one is just coming out. He wants to meet his mothers."

And all of a sudden there he- she- _it_ is. Their baby (their slimy, gooey and trembling little scaled baby, blinking up at Jenny with gorgeous green eyes) and Jenny cries while Vastra laughs with a little sniffle, looking as though she can't quite believe what is sitting there in front of her. She moves down to hold the tiny creature, laughing with all the maternal softness of a new mother as she brings their baby close and examines it - from it's crest to the tip of it's feet.

Jenny clasps her hands over her mouth, whimpering.

"It's a girl."

* * *

The Doctor plays the part of godfather frightfully well. He comes with gifts and party hats and balloons, cake and tea and even a puppy that Jenny feels must be given back. That entire afternoon he bounces little Devon on his knee and lets her play with his sonic screwdriver, laughing uproariously when she sticks the thing in her mouth and beams - quite proud of herself.

"Beautiful baby," the Doctor praises. He tickles Devon under the chin and grins when the baby tries to bat him off with her little uncoordinated arms and hands. "Look at her! Already trying to show me who's boss. Definitely your mothers' daughter. Yes, the green one and the pink-ish one," he says in response to a spluttered gurgle.

"Doctor," Jenny says slowly, "You speak-"

"Baby? Oh yes."

When Devon begins to fuss (her little face screws up tight, her scales turn an alarming shade of crimson around the crest, and she begins to struggle in the Doctor's hold) Jenny takes her from the man and waltzes out of the room in search of fresh meat. Vastra watches them go with a fond look, smiling brightly at the sight of her wife and child.

"Never thought you'd ever get that, eh?" the Doctor says watching Jenny depart, a glaze over his eyes. "All those years ago - when you were angry and alone in a world that wasn't yours anymore. You didn't think one person could ground you so completely. Or that another person, a tiny little being, could make you feel like everything up to now had been entirely worth it. Just because they were alive."

Vastra stares at him. "You sound like you speak from experience, Doctor."

He remains mute for a long moment before seemingly snapping himself out of a reverie. "Me? Noooo. Just making an observation."

"Frightfully accurate observation," she sniffs.

"Well, I _am_ very clever."

"What are we talking 'bout then?" exclaims Jenny with little Devon over her shoulder, her belly full and dozing happily.

"Just how clever the doctor is," Vastra replies, staring intently at the man in question. The Doctor merely shrugs in defeat before holding out his arms to reclaim his godchild.

"Not as clever as you two though," he murmurs, gazing at little Devon breathlessly. "I mean look at her! _Really_ look at her. The first Silurian baby hatched by a Silurian and a human parent. Look at how perfectly she turned out."

Jenny smiles proudly and takes Vastra's hand. Devon has indeed turned out beautifully. She's a gorgeous shade of green, not unlike her mother, with startling eyes that have turned a glamorous shade of dark blue in the hours after her hatching - almost violet. She's a true marvel to behold and the three adults share warm smiles at each other on her behalf.

* * *

Strax takes a decidedly surprising liking to Devon on his return from Glasgow. Perhaps, this is due to the fact that Devon's first instinct was to attack the stranger when his potato head had appeared over her cot. If there's one thing Strax admires more than a foe it's a foe a tenth his size. His days are now spent crawling from room to room after the little munchkin and prying her off the furniture, shows her his armour and places the dome helmet over her little head as she giggles maniacally. Vastra is rather perturbed by this burgeoning military alliance in her home; although she makes a valiant effort to appear supportive. So far it has kept Strax away from the potted plants and horses.

"Madame, there is a visitor for you at the door."

"Thank you, Strax. Welcome them in. Oh, and have you seen Ms. Jenny anywhere?"

Strax points up above their heads. "I believe the boy is putting the Little Madame down for a nap."

"That's good. Has Devon gotten over her tummy-ache from this morning? Bank robber doesn't seem to agree with her digestive track quite yet."

"My sensors and eardrums indicate that she is in recovery of that particular ailment."

Vastra claps her hands delightedly. "Wonderful. Well, duty calls!"

Vastra donnes her veil and reclines elegantly against her wicker chair as Strax leads a young gentleman in a tweed jacket and spectacles inside the conservatory. His hair is tousled and red, eyes dark and nose crooked. When he sees Vastra his face pulls into a tired smile and his clenched fists loosen and stuff themselves in the pockets of his slacks.

"Madame Vastra," he drawls. "It's been a while."

"I beg your pardon?" Vastra responds, glancing quickly at Strax before training her eyes back on her guest. "Have we met before?"

"A few times," he says. "I'm here about Devon."

Vastra perks at the mention of her daughter's name and rips the veil from her head to stare into the man's steely gaze. Fighting back a hiss, she instead motions minutely for Strax to close in on the potential enemy. The latter does not stiffen or struggle when Strax seizes him roughly from behind, only keeps a steadfast eye on Vastra.

"Who are you?" Vastra demands viciously, rising from her chair.

"A friend. Despite what you may think about me now and in the future."

Vastra's eyes widen slowly. "... Doctor?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nada**

****A/N: Last part dudes and dudettes. Small bit of author bio for y'all; I totes started university. It's totes terrifying.

Also, thanks for reading and reviewing and putting up with this random little story. Love you all!

* * *

-Chapter 4-

"Oh good, you recognise me then. Thought the hair might have fooled the Great Detective." This new red haired Doctor smiles widely and claps his hands. He nods at a chair and, when Vastra gives a meek nod, scrapes it closer before plopping down.

Regaining her wits about her, the Madame sits back down and frowns. "One word test," is all she says.

"Splendid!"

Vastra's eyes narrow. "Age?"

"Older." The young man's face darkens and he turns his gaze over Vastra's shoulder, pensive and dark.

"Transportation?"

"TARDIS."

Vastra makes a humming noise and glances out of the corner of her eye when Jenny enters the room, looking at the new arrival curiously. The young man smiles kindly at her.

"Girl?" Vastra says slowly, nodding at Jenny.

"Wife," is the prompt response.

"Who's he then?" Jenny whispers to her wife as she comes closer.

"The Doctor," Vastra murmurs back.

"Why are you giving him all these bizarre questions he already knows?"

"Building up to the larger ones, sweetheart. Have faith in me."

Jenny rolls her eyes but does as her wife asks, falling silent and standing behind the woman's chair as they both stare at the Doctor watching them both.

"Plans?"

The Doctor balks on this. He straightens his tie and adjusts the lapels of his coat nervously. He opens his mouth and then thinks better of it. Finally, after what seems like hours, he mutters out, "Babysitting."

"I beg your pardon?" Vastra exclaims, forgetting herself and the entire principle of the One-Word test at this declaration.

"You! You from the future! You told me to come back to now and prove myself worthy of being Devon's babysitter because, APPARENTLY, I'm too '_unreliable_'" Here the Doctor uses air-quotes, almost shrieking into their faces. Jenny and Vastra recline at the outburst. "I'm the Doctor! I can take care of a teenager for an afternoon, for goodness sake!" His eyes are wide with indignation and a little spit becomes airborne as he shouts, "NOW WHERE'S THE BABY?!"

* * *

Jenny watches the Doctor and Strax crawl across the drawing room floor after Devon. The little girl is fresh from her nap and has taken this new energy to scurry under the settee and attempt to scale the bookcases. The two men - and Jenny uses that term loosely - are having quite a hard time trying to pry Devon, talons and all, from the furniture.

"Jenny!"

"Coming, love!" Jenny calls back, casting one last look at the troublesome trio before exiting the room.

She finds Vastra in the kitchen, hovering over a case and looking thrilled that there are no nappies and feedings hampering her from pouring over her work. Jenny drops a kiss onto her wife's scaly head and loops her arms across Vastra's shoulders.

"I hate to admit it, but it's wonderful to have someone else occupying Devon for an afternoon." Vastra jots down a little commentary on the edge of a file and raises her head to look Jenny in the eyes.

"It's too bad you decided 'ta spend that time doin' work," Jenny whispers heatedly, her skin brushing deliciously against Vastra's scales making the Silurian purr.

"What else should I be doing, pray tell?" Vastra growls seductively. Jenny's hands are grasping at clothing and her lips are touching as much soft scales as they can reach, nipping lightly with her teeth.

"Well," Jenny says throatily, "Me, for a start."

"Capital idea," Vastra breathes out, hurrying out of her chair and scooping Jenny up.

They make it to their bedroom in little time, carefully bypassing the commotion in the drawing room and its three occupants. Clothes are unceremoniously ripped from quivering frames, scorching kisses are traded, and hands grasp at limbs as they tumble to the bed. Jenny giggles into Vastra's needy nuzzling and runs soothing fingers down her wife's spine, swallowing every whimper and groan of pleasure readily.

"Yer eager," Jenny rasps, accent more pronounced as she labours to string a coherent sentence together. She keens when Vastra enters her and bites the Silurian's shoulder causing Vastra to let out a low hiss.

"Would the mother of my child kindly kiss me, before the Doctor decides that babies are more work than saving the world?" Vastra pants as her hand doubles its pace.

Jenny cries out before slamming her lips against Vastra's smirk. The Silurian takes this as an affirmative.

* * *

After, Vastra feels rather proud of herself. Jenny is breathing heavily, draped across her body - eyes closed in absolute bliss. It's enough to make any woman feel smug. She pulls the human closer, heat blossoming in her heart when Jenny purrs and cuddles more comfortably.

"It's suspiciously quiet," Vastra mentions in passing against her wife's hairline. She rubs a thumb across the back of Jenny's hand as the latter hums distractedly.

"You mean _gloriously_ quiet," Jenny drawls with a lovely groan, sighing gently in happiness.

The door suddenly creaks open and Jenny raises herself up on her elbows in time to catch sight of Devon crawling across the bedroom floor. She has the Doctor's sonic screwdriver trapped between her pointy infantile teeth, and proceeds to sit on her rump, raising her arms up to be brought on the bed.

""Ello there, darling," Jenny coos reaching down, "Where are your 'apless babysitters then?"

Devon giggles and squirms in between her mothers, mouthing contentedly around her godfather's screwdriver. She lets it drop on the bedcovers, drool and all, when Vastra scratches at a particularly sensitive patch of scales under her chin.

Vastra rolls her eyes. "You'd think he'd know better than to let her have it, really."

"VASTRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"Speak of the devil," Jenny mutters into Devon's crest, rubbing the infants tummy. "Will we hide, sweetie? I think we should hide." She blows a raspberry against Devon's cheek and Vastra delights at the answering giggle.

"You two hide under the covers then," she says.

When the Doctor finally trips his way into the room- eyes covered and spinning awkwardly in place while shouting for his lost screwdriver- Vastra glances at the cackling bundle of covers that hide the two loves of her life. She beams and tosses the device at the Doctor (it hits him in the head with a dull thunk and he trips out of the room with all the grace of a Timelord) She then proceeds to slink under the covers with her wife and child and kisses Jenny's smiling mouth and Devon's pointy little nose.

No thoughts of her family enter Jenny's head. Nothing beyond how happy she is in this very moment.


End file.
